


But rest here now, I can’t go on

by charleia



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 16:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21200858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleia/pseuds/charleia
Summary: They were in memory of Misty





	But rest here now, I can’t go on

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on paper and had to type it all over, I feel like some peasant in the middle ages with a quill and parchment

The soft, melodic tunes of a lullaby drift through the nursery as Misty’s mother brushes her hair. It’s an old song, Misty knows it by heart. She vaguely remembers her grandmother singing it to her as well. 

Her mother’s voice is nice and soothing, almost enough to lull her to sleep. 

And it almost does, especially as her mother puts her to bed and tucks her in, ringed hand caressing the side of her face. 

Misty sleepily watches her through hooded lids. Tiny toddler hands seize her mother’s as she fidgets with the flower-shaped charms around her bracelet and the two silver frog-shaped rings around her finger.

“Pretty,” she remarks while stifling a yawn. She drags a chubby finger over the smooth engraved metal and smiles softly. 

Misty’s mother tucks the wild blonde curls away from her face and kisses her forehead. “They were your grandmother’s once,” she says, “and one day, when I, too, leave this earth, they will be yours.”

“But that’s not for a very long time, right?” Misty’s eyes widen and a sorrowful expression crosses her features. 

“No, baby, don’t worry,” her mother presses another kiss to the palm of her hand, “Not for a very long time.”

Misty sighs softly and yawns once more. “Alright, then,” 

“Go to sleep, now, petal.” her mother whispers softly. “Sleep tight, I love you.”

“Goodnight, mama,” Misty replies, almost inaudibly, “I love you.”

It’s only been mere months since then when Misty loses her mother. She’s just turned nine, at the time. So much for ‘Not for a very long time’ Misty thinks as bitter tears flow down her cheeks. In her tiny palm, she holds the rings. They’re much too big for her to wear, so instead she makes do with tying them around a delicate golden chain and wearing them as a make-shift locket. 

It may not be much, but it’s something to remember her by. And over time, it becomes some sort of token, something that grounds her to reality when her mind flies too high, something that provides warmth and a sense that she isn’t entirely alone in this cold, wicked world. 

A beacon of hope when all hope seems to be lost. 

It keeps her going. 

Misty has never felt welcome in her community. It is why she neither feels surprised nor shocked when a little under two decades after her mother’s death, they do end up betraying her. In the darkest of the night, they abducted her, yelling at her, hurling insults and other obscenities. Misty doesn’t recall anything other than a burning pain, seared into her very soul. She’s not sure exactly what she did wrong but she feels more frightened and lonelier than ever when she comes to. 

Almost instinctively, her hand reachers up to the necklace but her hand is only met with the broken chain. She fumbles around and much to her relief she finds the rings beside her. 

Forlornly, she stares at the two pieces of jewelry. She feels disoriented, misplaced, as if she doesn’t quite belong in this world anymore. 

And perhaps there is some truth to that. Had it been wrong of her, to play God? Had it been a mistake bringing herself back? 

She’s isn’t entirely certain but she can’t help but feel that something out there, another soul maybe, is calling out to her. Her time on earth can’t be up yet, she knows that much. 

Determinedly, she slides the rings around her fingers. She smiles softly, she is about the same age her mother was when she passed away and the rings fit perfectly now. 

It’s a bittersweet feeling but she knows that her mother’s spirit will guide her to something great. 

‘Something great’ indeed, for less than a week later, she meets Cordelia Goode. A kind witch not much older than her. She’s enticing, alluring and ever so beautiful, Misty can’t help but notice. She has a very gentle aura which instantly draws Misty in. Being with her makes her feel as if she could take on the entire world. 

Misty loved her before she even realises it. 

They spend countless hours in the greenhouse together, crafting various concoctions and Misty learns a great deal about potioncraft. Though truthfully, Cordelia could be talking about something as boring as drying paint and Misty would still listen faithfully. She could listen to her voice forever. Cordelia also tells her a lot about herself and Misty tries to remember each little detail she shares. Her favourite flower is a marigold, her favourite colour is purple and her favourite animals are dogs, butterflies and frogs and this reminds Misty. 

One morning, she takes off one of the rings and hands it to Cordelia who, vaguely knowing of their significance, refuses initially. But Misty just smiles and insists, sliding the ring around Cordelia’s finger. 

“We can share,” she says, “I don’t need them anymore, we’ll be each other’s good-luck charms.”

And with a bashful smile, Cordelia agrees.

Cordelia avoids the greenhouse for months after the Seven Wonders. That was their spot and though she would love to just relish the memory of what once was, it hurts too much. She simply cannot do it. 

Memories flash before her eyes when she does go in. The day before, they’d been working with the Louisiana mud, one of Misty’s favoured ingredients when it came to potioncraft. 

Then, something shiny catches her eye. Misty’s ring. She must’ve forgotten about it, she was always so careful with it, taking it off whenever there was the slightest chance of it getting dirty or damaged. 

Cordelia takes the forgotten ring in her hand, scanning it with morose eyes. The metal feels almost wrong in her hand, strangely heavy and hot and cold at the same time. She’s almost convinced that it’ll leave a searing mark on her palm. She closes her eyes and then, with a shuddery sigh, she slides it along her middle finger, beside her own ring. 

It may not be much but at least it’s something. Something in memory of her dearest Misty. 

It’s been months since Cordelia lost her, years, even. Cordelia isn’t entirely sure how it happened. Countless times, she has tried to save her, to retrieve her from the Netherworld. She exhausted and drained her powers so many times but never once did she succeed. But now— she was back, safely inside her arms and Cordelia can’t possibly bring herself to care about how exactly it happened. Not when she can finally feel her skin against her own again, not when she can touch her again, hug her again. 

It is then that Cordelia kisses her for the very first time. 

Misty returns the gesture all too eagerly, eyes fluttering shut as she sighs softly and leans into Cordelia’s embrace. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time.” Cordelia whispers, touching her forehead to Misty’s. 

Misty just smiles at this. “Well, then…” she whispers. “Do it again.”

Soft moonbeams trickle through the  
creaks between the curtains, casting a silver glow inside the room. Cordelia shivers slightly. Neither of them has said a word since they had made love to one another just moments ago. She feels her heart rattle in her chest, pulse almost perfectly matching the one beneath her palm. 

Misty quietly takes her hand, thumb brushing over her fingers, over the set of rings they’d once shared. “You kept them,” Misty remarks with a nostalgic smile. 

“Of course I did,” Cordelia says. She lifts her hand slightly, fingers brushing over Misty’s cheek, thumb tracing the curve of her lips. “I love you.” She slides of the rings around Misty’s fingers and kisses the back of her hand. “I’m never letting you go.”

It’s fall when Misty and Cordelia get married. Rose gold bands now grace their fingers alongside their ever present frog-shaped ones. 

A chilly autumn wind breezes through Cordelia’s hair, ruffling the flowers Zoe and Mallory braided through so delicately. She closes her eyes contently, leaning her head atop Misty’s shoulder and pulling her close. 

Finally, she can feel at peace. 

The soft melodic tunes of a song drift through the room as Misty brushes her daughter’s hair. It’s not so much a lullaby, rather the song of her first dance with Cordelia.

The two frog rings now grace her fingers once again. Time granted them a lifetime filled with love and happiness but the fate of the Supreme is inevitable. And though Misty’s mangled heart never did recover from that blow, she holds on tightly to those memories of her bright smile, her soft hands and the way how she, without fail, would wake her up in the morning, lazily dragging her fingers over Misty’s back in a gentle caress. 

And she holds on tightly the last physical proof of the bond she had shared with the woman she loved. 

“They’re pretty,” her daughter says softly, dragging her chubby fingers over the engraved metal. 

Misty smiles somberly. “Aren’t they?” she mutters. “They used to belong to your great-grandmother, who passed them on to my mother, who passed them on to me. And for a while, they belonged to your mommy and I…” she sighs and trails off. 

“I miss mommy,” 

“Yeah,” Misty whispers, blinking her tears away, “I miss her too. But I believe that one day, she and I will be reunited and when that happens, these pretty rings will pass on to you.”

“But that not for a very long time, is it?”

“No, pumpkin,” Misty says as she kisses her daughter’s cheek, “Not for a very long time.”

**Author's Note:**

> you know where to find me by now


End file.
